BANCROFT 
LIBRARY 

<> 

THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


(K  e  q  u  i  e  m 


3n  (tttetnorg  of 

&e€onfe  ******  3[ufg  6,  1901 


(Requiem 

(In  Memory  of  Professor  Joseph  LeConte) 
July  6,  1901 


BY 


EDWARD  ROBESON  TAYLOR  ^"S^- 


PRINTED  FOR  THE  MEMBERS  OF  THE  SIERRA  CLUB 
BY  THE  STANLEY-TAYLOR  COMPANY  AT  SAN  FRAN 
CISCO  IN  THE  MONTH  OF  SEPTEMBER  AND  YEAR 
NINETEEN  HUNDRED  AND  ONE  ::::::::: 


_ 

L-34T3 


fr 

Jr* 

W 
tfCSr 


TO   THE 

SIE  RRA    CLUB 


r 


Qftecjuiem 


of 
EeConte,  3ufg  6,  1901. 


Noiseless  as  fall  of  lightest  thistle-down 

Upon  the  grass,  Death's  vast-winged  messenger, 

Unseen  of  mortal  eye,  alighted  where 

Yosemite  uprears  her  matchless  walls, 

And  pours  her  cataracts  from  many  an  urn 

In  thunderous  chorus  of  triumphant  song. 

II 

Long  have  I  waited,  Death  had  said  to  him, 
For  one  resplendent  head  that  long  has  lain 
In  peace  of  love  within  the  hearts  of  men, 
But  until  now  I  dared  not  strike  the  blow ; 
For  I  am  not  all  evil,  as  thou  know'st, 
And  when  I  saw  this  man  of  noble  soul, 
In  lovability  beyond  all  words, 
Give  of  his  bounty  each  recurring  year, 
Enriching  every  place  whereon  he  trod, 


And  making  brighter  all  the  air  he  breathed  — 
A  very  sun  that  conquered  darkest  cloud  — 
I  shrank  from  sending  my  resistless  dart, 
That  waits  for  all,  against  a  head  so  crowned. 
But  now,  as  lies  he  in  the  arms  of  her 
He  long  has  loved  —  the  great  Yosemite  ; 
As  on  his  ear  the  thunder  of  her  fails 
Beats,  and  he  lists  with  new-awakened  joy; 
As  his  observant  eye  once  more  beholds 
Her  streams,  her  trees,  her  towers  and  domes, 
With  all  the  myriad  beauties  of  her  floor  ; 
And  as  he  hears  and  gazes,  his  great  heart 
Bursts  into  raptures  he  can  not  conceal  ; 
As  now  his  powers  are  ripened  to  their  best, 
And  may  begin  to  wane  in  sight  of  men  ; 
'Tis  good  I  do,  not  ill,  to  strike  him  down. 
But  do  thine  office  gently  on  this  man, 
And  let  thy  blow  be  quick  and  merciful. 

Ill 

The  messenger  obeyed  ;  and  he  that  was 

So  nobly  crowned  with  life's  supremest  gems  ; 

Who  but  a  few  short  hours  before  had  been 

A  very  fountain  whence  outgushed  a  stream 

Of  most  abounding  and  exalted  good, 

Lay  like  a  clod,  no  light  within  that  eye 

Which  once  had  challenged  all  the  paths  of  space, 

No  speech  upon  that  tongue  which  once  had  drawn 

The  hearts  of  thousands  with  its  lightsome  charm. 


IV 

The  mourning  Valley  could  not  keep  his  clay, 
But  round  it  twined  her  garlands  wet  with  tears 
Of  eyes  that  looked  their  lingering  last  on  that 
Which  coffin-housed  upon  the  wain  was  lashed. 
As  sank  the  sun  behind  the  soaring  domes, 
And  all  the  Valley's  length  in  shadow  lay 
Sombrous  and  deep,  she  gave  his  body  up  — 
Her  walls  in  saddened  gaze  as  ne'er  before, 
Her  falls  in  muffled  tones  as  ne'  er  before, 
Her  river  sounding  dirge  as  ne'er  before. 


The  day's  last   breath   was  drawn,  and   brooding 

night, 

With  her  procession  of  innumerous  stars, 
In  new-born  mystery  spread  her  sable  wings, 
As  now  the  dead  and  living,  silent  all 
Save  for  the  grinding  of  the  wheels  that  toiled 
Full  slowly  up  the  long,  steep  mountain-side, 
Passed  through  the  endless  ranks  of  firs  and  pines. 
The  gloom  of  solitude  was  in  their  depths, 
The  gloom  of  solitude  was  in  our  hearts  ; 
And  what  strange  spectacle  for  them  to  see !  — 
The  coffined  form  of  one  who  had  in  life 
Held  genial  fellowship  with  all  their  kind, 
To  pauseless  pass  in  quiet  of  the  night, 
And  he  to  them  forever  blind  and  mute  ;  — 


He  that  but  scarce  three  days  before  had  joyed 
To  see  their  needles  dancing  in  the  sun, 
And  had,  in  ecstasy  of  pure  delight, 
His  very  heart's  blood  mingled  with  their  own. 

Still  on  and  on  the  living  and  the  dead, 

As  brighter  and  still  brighter  shone  the  stars, 

Passed  through  the  darkness   of  the  trees  which 

seemed 

As  still  as  he  that  lay  forever  dumb. 
The  winds  were  sleeping  in  their  distant  caves 
With  folded  wing ;  nor  bird  nor  insect  chirped, 
Nor  whispered  any  leaf.     It  was  as  though 
The  mountain  and  her  brood  in  reverent  hush 
Were  bowed  before  the  loved,  illustrious  dead. 

Then   swam   the   moon  with   more  than  splendor 

bright 

Up  from  the  far  horizon's  edge,  and  shot 
The  forest's   gloom  with  radiant,  silvery  threads  ; 
And  in  that  gloom  all  fairy  forms  were  built, 
And  quick  as  built  dissolved,  and  then  rebuilt, 
Of  palaces  and  domes  and  dim  arcades, 
While  thickening  shadows  threw  fantastic  shapes 
Across  the  road  where  toiled  the  mournful  wain. 

Still  on  and  on  the  living  and  the  dead, 
As  higher  and  still  higher  soared  the  moon, 
Passed  through  the  forest  silent  still  as  he 
That  in  his  coffin  all  unheeding  lay. 


Yet  we  were  near  him,  and  his  soul  and  ours 
Communed  through  all  the  watches  of  the  night  : 
We  thought  of  what  his  work  had  been  to  man  ; 
What  seeds  of  inspiration  he  had  sown  ; 
What  love  for  each  created  thing  was  his  ; 
What  meeds  of  glory  he  had  justly  won  ; 
How  bathed  his  soul  in  all  the  seas  divine  ; 
How  quick  his  eye  to  find  the  fair  and  good, 
How  slow  to  see  the  ugly  and  the  bad  ; 
And  then  we  thought  of  that  poor  fool  who  asked, 
"'  Is  life  worth  living?" 


r>  1  ^ 

Paler  grew  the  moon 
As  on  and  on  the  living  and  the  dead 
Still  passed,  the  grieving  forest  left  behind 
Forevermore  by  him  that  voiceless  lay. 
And  now  the  Dawn,  the  sweet,  mysterious  Dawn, 
Showed  her  face  dimly  o'er  the  distant  peaks, 
Then  with  a  clearer  glow  and  brighter  smile, 
Till  drowned  and  lost  in  the  absorbent  beams 
Of  that  almighty  Sun  which  rules  us  all. 


